“Then what are you doing in this tub?”
“Proving that I’m as brave as Annie Jones.”
Brandon’s laughter rumbled in his chest. He felt under the water for her ankles and grabbed them, pulling her close until he could curve her legs over his thighs, one of her feet on each side of his hips.
“Brandon! What are you doing?” Her hands came out of the water to clutch his shoulders. She felt his fingers sliding under her buttocks and lifting her so she rested in the cradle of his thighs. She blinked hugely as his erection pressed against her. “I don’t think…” She slipped her arms around him, her face resting in the curve of his neck. “…this is very…” She was lifted a little higher, her breasts rubbing smoothly against his chest. “…proper….” She caught her breath as he guided himself into her.
“Mm,” he murmured, pressing kisses along her shoulder. “Highly improper, I should think.” His fingers tugged at the ribbon in her hair, tossed it to one side, and let her hair fall loosely down her back. The ends floated gently in the water.
They were both very still for a while, drawn to the contrast of their bodies embraced so intimately. Strands of her ebony hair mingled with the corn silk brightness of his. Brandon’s work-roughened palms were flush to the soft skin of her back. Shannon’s tender breasts swelled against his unyielding chest.
“Brandon?”
“Hmm?”
“I can’t move.”
He seemed to think that over, then admitted, “Neither can I.”
Shannon raised her head. Violet and polished onyx eyes held for a moment. She smiled. He grinned. They began laughing simultaneously.
Brandon lifted Shannon away from him, swatting her behind as she scrambled out of the tub. He stood, rinsed himself off, and followed her wet trail to the bed. Neither of them quite knew when their laughter ceased to be the cause of their breathlessness.
Their damp bodies tangled, clung, and finally joined with a passion that forced them to be selfish and selfless in the same moment. They bartered affection, exchanging kiss for caress, embrace for endearment, then they gave freely, seeking nothing but the other’s pleasure, until their flesh savored what their spirits shared.
Shannon stirred, turning on her side as Brandon pulled a sheet over them. They faced each other like reflections, each with an arm under a pillow, their knees drawn upward, almost touching.
“Is it indelicate,” she asked, “for a married woman to say ‘leg’?”
Brandon felt his heart, which had just quieted begin thudding erratically. “Some husbands might object,” he said solemnly.
“Would you?”
“No.”
She nodded thoughtfully, as if the answer did not surprise her. Her cheek brushed against the snowy pillowcase. “All right,” she said.
“All right?” he repeated.
“All right, I’ll marry you.”
Brandon’s brows shot upward. “You’re marrying me because I’ll allow you to indulge in a scandalous vocabulary?” he asked incredulously.
Under the cover her hand sought his and interlocked their fingers. “No, you foolish man,” she said. “Because I love you.”
“I’m happy you thought to mention it,” he said, squeezing her fingers gently. “When did you decide?”
“That I loved you? I told you that—”
“No. You can tell me that later. When did you decide to marry me?”
“When Paul and Michaeline left.”
“But that was two weeks ago.”
She looked faintly guilty. “I didn’t know how to bring the topic around. You never mentioned it.”
Groaning, Brandon buried his face in his pillow, shaking his head from side to side in disbelief. “You said you didn’t want to speak of it.”
